Lilly Cares
by LadySilvermist
Summary: The story of a girl who did not fear death. a girl who cared for Nny for no reason at all. a girl who gave her life willingly to satiate the beast, and spent her last moments comforting a boy dealing with far too much for any 19 year old. Beware of all the feels. You will probably cry. Review pls! Also, let me know if you want to see the sequel to this.


I hung in my chains, watching the man-child flinging his hands in the air as he ranted about the state of the world. He'd done this every day for a week. I knew that eventually he was going to kill me, but I couldn't bring myself to care that I was going to die. I was concerned for him though. I hope the person who takes my place will listen as well as I do. He stopped his pacing and hand flailing. He was…crying? Wow, that was a change. I'd only ever seen him display anger.

"Hey," I croaked. My voice was crackly from under-use and lack of water. "Hey, why are you crying?"

"You don't care," he snarled roughly, the tears cutting tracks on his grimy face. Wasn't anyone taking care of this guy? He couldn't have been more than 19. And he obviously needed help. I'd seen his eyes. There was a scared little kid trapped in that crazy late-teens brain.

"Actually, I do. I've been listening, you know." I cocked my head to the side. He was hugging himself, as if trying to stop himself from shivering.

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"Johnny. But you can call me Nny." He stared at the floor.

"Well, Nny, my name is Lilith, but you can call me Lilly. I was wondering if you'd unshackle my hands?" he looked up at me sharply. "No, I'm not going to try to escape. You can keep my legs shackled, if you want. I've already accepted that I am going to die, and I'm not upset. I'd just like to have my hands free, if you don't mind." He stepped forward and unshackled my arms. I brought them down to my sides (goddamn they were stiff) and rubbed my wrists. "Why are you crying?"

"Because…This isn't _ME_,'' he whimpered. "I was crazy before, but nothing like this! This isn't _**ME**_!"

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked him softly. He sat down on the grimy floor, hugging his knees, hiding his face behind them as he cried a little more.

"Yes. No. Does it even matter?" He rocked back and forth, his sniffles filling the room.

"It might help. Hell, when I'm sad or sick or lonely, I talk to my dog. And I'm like a dog, I guess. So maybe you could talk to me?" I lowered myself carefully to the floor, sitting crosslegged.

He sniffled and wiped at his eyes. "I'm not happy. I'm sick and I'm confused. I kill people to feed the thing behind the wall, to keep it happy. I kill when I'm scared, and when I'm sad, and when I'm tired, and when I'm confused or hurt or anxious or angry…I kill all the time…and I think I enjoyed it once…but I don't remember why, and once I painted…but now I can't, I've lost my muse…I hurt people I used to like, and every time I go outside someone wants to fuck with me…because I'm too thin…or too pale…or too goth…" He trailed off, emotional scars etched all over his face. I knew he was telling the truth about the wall thing, I'd felt the house warping around us once. As for the rest…it was evident in his face and voice. He was being completely honest.

"Come here." I patted the concrete next to me. He eyed me suspiciously. "I won't hurt you Nny. Like I said, I'm fully aware that I'm going to die. I don't mind." He came over to sit next to me. He was still crying. I leaned over and wrapped him in a hug. He squealed and pushed me off of him, scuttling away.

"What are you doing?!" He screeched shrilly.

"Well, now I'm being confused. I was trying to give you a hug." He was breathing wildly, his eyes spinning around in his head.

"Why are you being so nice to me?! Why?! I'm going to hurt you! I'm going to kill you! Why don't you hate me?!" He was crying more heavily now. I looked at him sadly.

"I'll answer that in a minute, Nny, but to do that I'll need something reflective. Is there a mirror anywhere close by? A small one, like a hand mirror." He nodded and opened a door I hadn't noticed on the left wall. He disappeared into another room. After a few minutes, he came back with a round hand-mirror. He handed it to me and wiped at his eyes. I told him to sit next to me again. When he did, I handed him the mirror. "What do you see, Nny?"

"A monster. A fucking abomination!" he screamed with rage and pain and threw the mirror.

"That is why I don't hate you." He stared at me, uncomprehending. "You hate yourself so much, it's beyond pointless for me to hate you. I'm afraid for you. Somewhere in there is a good person, or you wouldn't carry this much pain. You're not evil, Nny. You're just broken. Deeply broken." I tried again to hug him, and this time he didn't pull away. He just shook with silent sobs in my embrace. I pulled him close and ran one hand through his hair, the other arm curled around him. I rocked us back and forth gently. I don't know how long we sat like that. He eventually fell asleep, but I still didn't let go. He needed this, and I'd be damned if I was going to deny someone in this much pain something they needed so desperately. He must have had a nightmare, because he whimpered and twitched in his sleep, and I whispered soothing things in his ear until he quieted. After a few hours, he woke up. He clung to me for a good 20 minutes, before taking a shuddering breath.

"L…Lilly?" he whispered.

"Yeah?" my breath shifted his hair. I felt him start to quake.

"The wall needs to be painted." He sobbed quietly. "The Monster has to be fed soon, or really bad things will happen to everyone." He shook like a leaf in a storm.

"Guess it's my time, huh?" I felt a tear slide down my face. Not for myself, but for Nny.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed, his tears soaking straight through my shirt to my skin. "Please forgive me!"

"You were forgiven the day you took me, Nny," I whispered into his hair. He whimpered against my shoulder, clinging to me for dear life. "How will it be done?"

"I c-cut a h-hole in your th-th-roat…a-and secu..secuuure a t-tube to i-hit…a-and yuh-hoo b-blee-eed out int-to a b-bu-cket…" He's crying even harder now, and I wrap him securely in my arms.

"Bleeding out feels just like going to sleep, Nny," I assured him. I'd read up on the subject when I was 16 and obsessed with death. "If you use a sharp enough knife, I won't feel a thing."

Nny got up. "I'll b-b-be right b-ba-ack…" he wobbled out of the room. I sat patiently and in a few minutes, Nny returned with a scalpel, a length of plastic medical tubing, and a bucket. With shaking fingers, he carves a small circular chunk out of my neck, over my carotid artery. He carefully places the tubing in and lays the other end into the bucket. I watch as the bucket starts to fill. Nny is cuddled up against me, crying again. I pet his hair. After a few minutes I start to shiver. I'm getting drowsy.

"Nny…I'm cold." He clutches me. "And sleepy. It didn't hurt at all, Nny. You did really well. I'm really cold, though."

"Please, don't go yet," Nny cries. "I have questions! Answer them for me before you leave, please!"

I'm struggling to stay awake, but I agree.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen, like you."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Green."

"What's your favorite animal?"

"Wolf."

"What's your favorite song?"

"Uncle Johnny by The Killers." I'm not sure if it's me or him that's shaking so hard. My heartbeat is weak.

"Do you like Stars?"

"I love stars. I love the moon."

"Will you wait for me? Over the stars?"

"Yes…Nny? I'm almost done. Keep me warm until my eyes glass, ok?"

"Okay Lilly." The last thing I felt was Nny curled up against me. Then things went all gray.

Dear Die-ary,

I will never have bodily contact with anyone ever again. I will not sleep, because it's like dying. I will not feel, because it hurts too much. I miss Lilly.

(1 year later) Dear Die-ary,

I found a picture I don't remember painting. It's a wolf under the night sky. Its looking at the moon with huge green eyes. The words 'Hey what you say Johnny' were inscribed on the moon. The wolf had a silver 19 hidden in the pattern of its fur. The painting made me extremely sad.

(3 years later) Dear Die-ary

I saw a white water lilly today and burst into tears. I have no idea why. I wanted to check my older Die-aries for answers, but I can't find them. I found a new room in the house today. There was a skeleton on the floor. I didn't touch her. I know it's a girl, but I don't know how I know. I'm not going to move her. It feels…blasphemous, somehow, that I even opened the door. Like I had broken into a sacred place. I'm not going back in there. But maybe I will sit outside the door. Just for a little while. I feel saner outside that door, and happy as well. Like someone nice is waiting for me on the other side.


End file.
